


Belladonna

by The Curator of The Sands (GrimRevolution)



Series: Voltron Whump Week 2017 [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Gen, Graphic Depictions of Drowning, Graphic Depictions of Illness, How do i know what it feels like?, Hurt, Hurt to make better, Pidge | Katie Holt-centric, Pidge!whump, The World Will Never Know, inspiried by hanahaki disease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 19:20:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11858010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimRevolution/pseuds/The%20Curator%20of%20The%20Sands
Summary: Flowers were supposed to be beautiful.But beautiful things hurt.





	Belladonna

It didn't take very long for Pidge to realize that the Green Lion liked green planets. Which should have been a no brainer but the giant cat machine would find any excuse to land on them including completely ignoring its pilot to barrel down towards the surface with Pidge frantically pulling at the controls. And, when they finally reached the surface, it would lay there, sunbathe in whatever star happened to be shining, and would purr under Pidge's feet with absolute contentment. 

This planet was no different with its tall trees and flourishing floral. It was close to the one Pidge had found the lion on so many months ago and the readings said that it was safe to breathe so she climbed out of the cockpit and down onto the vine-strewn underbrush. Plants towered above her head, large flowers dipped down towards her, too heavy for their stems to hold up. 

Something chirruped up in the canopy and the leaves rustled as it moved along various branches. Pidge couldn't catch sight of what it was, but there seemed to be plenty of the small creatures wandering about because the chattering grew louder. The underbrush was thick with thick bushes and small trees trying to grow as big as the ones around them with minimal light. Some of the bigger flowers—these bright, wind milling things—had long, soft leaves and branching off stems that looked like the Nile Delta. 

She ran her fingers over the thick, center stem, and a half buried white thing stuck out of the dirt next to where the flower was planted. Pidge brushed the dirt away, but it was only a bone. Probably from an animal of some sort.

It wasn't creepy, she told herself, plants grew from decomposing things back on earth all the time. There was nothing wrong about it; just nature doing its timely duty to return the nutrients back into the earth.

" _Pidge_ ," Keith called over the comms and she turned away from the plants, " _We're getting ready to leave_."

"Copy that," she said and looked back once again at the flower.

The head had turned and was watching her. Not like a person did, not with eyes, but Pidge felt a shiver rise up her back and she swallowed. Green was waiting for her and she forgot about the flower and the planet as she joined the others in the castle. Coran met her in the hangar and gave her a nod before looking back over the device her held in his hands.

"What's that?" Pidge pulled his hands down to look at it and the Altean didn't resist.

"It monitors the energy that the Lions emit so that we could track them down better if any of them get lost again," Coran let her snake up between his arms and showed her what each button did and showed using the green lion as an example.

Tilting her head to the side, Pidge listened and watched. "But if the quintessence of a lion is mirrored in a paladin," she tilted her head back to look up at Coran, "doesn't that mean that this device could potentially track the paladins, too?"

"I'm afraid not," Coran patted her on the head and she stuck her tongue out at him. "While the quintessence is the same, your tiny body wouldn't be able to emit a signal quite as large as the Lions'; something would have to be made to track not only the level of quintessence you have but also how much of it you're emitting."

"Oh," well, there went that idea. Pidge took a deep breath to ask another question her lungs seemed to get caught on something and her diaphragm immediately pushed up to get it  _out_ _out_ _out_. The coughing rattled her entire frame and was hard enough that her throat ached and tears formed in the corner of her eyes, but she waved away Coran's worried hands. 

"'M fine," she managed to get out, her voice a hoarse whisper. There was still a soreness to her chest but Pidge managed a shaky grin for Coran's benefit. Nothing more than a coughing fit, there wasn't anything to worry about. Happened all the time.

The Altean went back to describing the machine in his hands and how he built it, and Pidge listened—she did—but her hand went up and rubbed her sore throat.

* * *

 

Sitting hunched over a computer for hours on end had never been good for her and Pidge, having been ingrained with the habit from a very young age, switched from sitting to standing to laying down any time her limbs wanted to tell her that they were about to drop off into dreamland. She was moving from being cross-legged and working her way up to her feet when a pain breached across the front of her chest, just at the base of her ribs, and she froze and gasped quietly until the pain had faded. 

Pressing her palm against where it had flared, Pidge pressed down slowly but it didn't rise again. A fluke, probably, from sitting for too long. She stretched out her back and arms and stayed standing quite a bit longer than she would have on any other day. By the time Hunk had gotten her for dinner, she had forgotten about it.

* * *

 

The Castle was travelling through empty space when a jerk shuddered through Pidge's body and jerked her awake. She scrambled up to her feet at first, thinking there was an attack but there were no alarms. Her body lurched and she coughed again, this time her hand covering her mouth reflexively. That must have been what had woken her, she realized after a moment and rubbed at her face before another group of harsh hacking hit her body over and over.

She keeled over, hands resting on her knees as she her lungs tried to empty themselves out of her throat and her diaphragm pounded against her ribcage. It punched her stomach and she managed to grab the waste basket before she threw up. 

The coughing stopped as Pidge's stomach threw its own fit like an irate neighbor telling the person next to them to shut up so they could get some sleep. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Pidge took a few deep breaths before sitting back against her bed and leaning her head against the mattress. Each time she inhaled it seemed as though less and less oxygen was in the room and she started coughing again.

Pidge didn't even bother covering her mouth with her hands that time and let the spasms run through every inch of her body until her bones felt as if they were grinding together and muscles felt like they had been thrown in a blender. Something wet dibbled down her chin and she reached up to wipe it away but through the taste of bile she got copper.

When she looked at her hand, it was smeared with something dark that didn't look anything like saliva in the dim light of the electronics. Pidge stumbled to her feet and pushed through the door to her room and ran as fast as she could to the bathroom. Her shoulder hit the doorframe and sent her careening into the sink but she held onto the metal edge and stared at herself in the mirror.

Her skin was pale, more so than usual, with all the color seemingly flushed out of it. The yellow-white made the crimson across her chin even more noticeable and she looked down at her hand were it not only had spread across the back of her hand but also in her palm. 

The palm she had coughed into.

Pidge felt her heart thump and the vibration went up her sternum. It also caused another bought of coughing and she kept her eyes open only to see blood splatter across the sink like macabre freckles.  She coughed until she was throwing up again, her throat aching like someone had dragged their nails up and down the flesh by the time she was able to breathe again. There was something that caught her eye, though—a petal with green at the base that slowly turned white towards the top. 

It had blood on it, scattered like glitter in carpet.

Turning on the sink, Pidge watched everything else be washed down the drain. Except that. It was too big and she... she hadn't  _eaten_ it. At least, she didn't  _remember_ eating it.

It looked... 

It looked like the petal of that flower she had seen on the planet Green had decided to stop at. Pidge picked it up between her fingers and turned it over. It was soft and flimsy, thin, like a rose petal but by the look of it she would have guessed it to be thicker. Like one of those waxy-type plants that  _looked_  fake but weren't. 

Another round of coughing was rising like the sun in her chest and Pidge had to drop the petal in order to lean over and hack into the sink. There was more blood but she could  _feel_  something working itsway up her throat. It was soft and flexible, curled over like paper rolled up and it worked its way closer and closer to her tongue with every cough.

When it hit the back of her throat, her stomach clenched again but there was nothing left inside so the dry heaving began followed by another cough or two before she could reach into her mouth, press whatever it was down onto her tongue, and drag it out. Pidge felt it move over her throat, like that time she was curious enough to swallow a noodle and then tugged it back out again.

She stared at the two petals for a long moment. The second one was browning—not from dying, but from being covered in blood. Pidge turned away from the sink and ran her hands through her hair. She hadn't eaten them, she hadn't, and coughing wasn't related to the stomach and she had  _coughed them up_.

Which meant they were in her lungs.

Pidge pressed a hand to her chest on reflex. 

Something was in her lungs. 

Something was probably  _growing_  in her lungs. 

The panic hit her like a set of lights after sitting in the dark for a long time and she  _ran_. She ran as fast and as hard as she could to the medical room. She managed to get there before coughing again, and those were harsh enough to send her to her knees. Pidge had barely gotten through the door and she was on her hands and knees and watched her blood being splattered across the pristine floor. 

When they were done, she had three more petals to add to her collection but she left them on the floor and dug through the emergency cabinet. 

Pain killers.

Cough suppressants. 

Sore throat.

Pidge whined and dumped everything out on the floor and read through each label. The letter folded together and she wiped at her eyes, trying to get rid of the tears so she could at least  _see_.

"Number five?"

She jerked and turned, eyes wide and panicked, to Coran. 

He was looking polished as ever in the blue and yellow uniform, but his dark eyes were focused on the mess spread across the floor and then focused on Pidge with her shaking shoulders and bloodied chin. "What happened?"

Pidge opened her mouth to say something but the only answer was coughing. 

Picking up one of the medical devices on the wall, Coran ran it over her face and then down over her torso, pausing at the middle of her sternum. "These readings," he said and shook the device, "that's... that's not  _possible_."

Opening her mouth to say something, Pidge yelped instead when he scooped her up in arms and brought her to one of the side rooms where a bed was waiting. Coran placed her down on it and was pulling gloves, a syringe, and something that looked like a neck brace. A square-like screen type of thing was pulled down from one of the walls and the Altean moved it so it was focused over Pidge's chest.

"Hold still," he said, looking as serious as she had ever seen him.

"C-Coran?"

His smile was distant, but then the Altean was focused on the equipment again and there was something that sounded like a camera shutter. "There's something growing inside of you," he said after a moment and Pidge felt her heart slam against her ribcage like a trapped beast. "And... and we'll have to remove it or you'll die."

She was shaking and Pidge turned her face away from Coran and bit her lip to muffle a sob. 

" _Pidge_ ," Coran said and pressed his hand against her forehead, not saying anything else until she turned her head to look up at him. "I can get it out, but it'll hurt."

Her fingers curled in, digging into her palms. " _Please_ ," she choked out.

"Alright, stay still for me," Coran reached under her head and clasped the brace around her neck. She could swallow, but it kept the cartilage and bone straight, leaving her throat open and unmoving. "You've got something called a Petromyzontiformes—they generally grow in warm, oxygen rich animals, which would explain why it attached onto you."

Straps were placed around her wrists and Pidge stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the fierce trembling through her body. 

"What I have to do is kill it inside your lungs," Coran said, finishing tying her legs to the table, "without killing you."

"Reassuring," Pidge croaked.

Coran brushed her bangs out of her face and then settled a strange, dark grey mask over her nose and mouth. It was almost like one of the oxygen masks in the hospitals back at earth, except for the fact that it was snapped closed like a muzzle. It had two large tubes in the front, one that was already attached and the other the Altean and twisting in. 

"Alright, just one more thing—" He lifted her head once more and placed a pillow underneath. "Comfortable?"

She readjusted slightly, tugging only just a bit at the bonds, then turned to Coran and nodded. 

"Excellent!"

Something gurgled and Pidge breathed in. If it was just gas, that was fine. She could do that. It would burn the plant out of her, kill it, Coran had said. She relaxed against the bed. 

It wasn't gas that came out of the tube, though. It hadn't been gas that gurgled and bubbled and  _pushed_  its way up the tubing.

It was  _water_.

Pidge hadn't had time to scream before it was filling the mask. She had closed her mouth and held her breath. When the water tried to push its way up her nose, she blew out, slowly, and pulled against the bonds and slammed her head back to break the snaps and clasps on the muzzle. She hit the pillow and the leather didn't budge. 

The water was cold and her body was so achingly hot. Her skin on her face was pinched and throbbed around her eyes and ears. An ache grew in her throat, a stinging, and something rose in her chest like a balloon, crawling up her stomach and using each rib as a rung in a ladder to make its way closer to her mouth. It was a little beast at first but then it started growing and growing and growing until her bones felt like they’re crack like the edges of an eggshell. 

Little aches moved through her teeth that she'd been clenching hard enough to make crack and that beast entered her mouth and whispered  _maybe, maybe, maybe_. It was tempting to let it just do what it wanted but she held on just a little bit longer and the muscles in her lower back started to hurt and the spaces between her ribs ached. 

Her chest flexed, like it was trying to give the illusion of breathing and it worked for a second… but only for a second.

Then that thing was in her mouth and it has spidery oil fingers that pushed through the gaps in her teeth and the veins in her gums. It worked like a crowbar, slowly easing her jaw open just slightly until the beast in her chest demanded freedom and she had to let it out she had to, she had to. 

So, she did, and there was this blessed moment when the beast is free and her muscles relaxed—but then Pidge breathed in and wondered if it was liquid fire instead of water. Sandpaper moved up and down her throat and her diaphragm  _knew._ It  _knew_  something was wrong so it pushed and pulled as she gagged and jerked. 

The lights dimmed above her and she wasn't sure if it was because she was losing consciousness or if Coran had turned down the lights. Whichever it was, she thrashed and kicked until her muscles grew heavier and the burning slowly faded. Her chest didn't rise or fall and, instead, Pidge was staring at the ceiling.

Her heart pumped slowly in her chest, the feeling like echolocation that she could feel as it sent ripples through her lungs, up her throat, and out of her mouth. She blinked slowly, each function of her brain seemingly dormant as she laid there, every muscle heavy and weighing so much she couldn't even bothered to lift them, bones anchors that kept her from drifting away from the table. 

Pidge thought she could hear someone moving about, but it echoed through her skull until she closed her eyes and did her best to ignore it.

It was so easy, at least, to ignore everything. 

To lay there.

To be  _still_.

* * *

 

The lights turned on and Pidge jerked away from them. She didn't get very far and something was touching her and it was too warm  _too warm_ like the blazing of a star. She whined and something heavy was removed from her face but then there was weight on her chest and she gasped and choked and  _gagged_.

Warmth spilled out through her mouth and her nose and she was coughing and choking before taking in a deep breath and it  _burned._ Noise erupted around her—beeping and screeching and something that was deep and guttural that moved through her ears and she didn't want it she didn't  _want_  it.

One of those same, warm things pressed against her chin and pushed her head back. Something was going down her mouth and into her throat. Something tasting like blood and dust and work. 

It touched something inside of her and she jerked again.

And then the metal thing was pulling back out but it was dragging something else with it and she burned and she burned and she  _burned_. 

"Almost out," a voice said above her and it clapped against her ears like thunder. "Almost out, you're doing great, Pidge, hold on just for a bit longer."

Her heel slammed down against the table as if it was Thor's hammer and the ground seemed to tremble. Something was moving through her throat and it was hard and sticky and slimy and she choked on it. 

But then it was out. 

It was out and she took in one more deep breath after another until the fire in her body had eased to a small blaze. Someone—Coran—lifted her and Pidge shivered, sniffling when she realized that her nose was clogged with snot. She must had been sobbing at some point, but she couldn't remember or even pinpoint the moment.

"Up you get," Coran guided her heavy limbs into the cryo-pod and she looked up at him, eye sight slowly clearing up. He gave her a grin that made the red mustache flutter. "Just get better now, Number Five! The hard part's all done with."

She couldn't muster up the energy to respond before the cryo-pod shut.

But that was fine. 


End file.
